All Chapters of Illegal Use of Hands: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

PART ONE: Quarterback Sneak"All men are assholes."Stacy Halligan slouched in a corner of her couch, feet propped up on the coffee table. A half-finished glass of wine—her third—rested on the side table by her hand. Somehow, the smooth flavor of the merlot hadn't eased the sharp edge of pain she rode. Instead, it tasted more like vinegar."I assume present company excepted?" Max Sullivan, stretched out in her big armchair, grinned at her, and took a swallow of beer."You're just a man in the generic meaning of the word," she grumped.His smile disappeared. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?""Don't get your shorts in a twist." Stacy levered herself up and took a sip of the wine, making a face. "I mean, you have all the right equipment." She ran her gaze over his tall, muscular body. "At least, I assume you do, since I haven't seen it firsthand. But I never think of you as a man. Exactly."He frowned. "And exactly how do you think of me?""You're my best friend. My bud. M

I have to be out of my fucking mind.Max studied the woman across from him and wondered what level of insanity prompted him to speak so freely. Putting his hand in a vat of boiling water might cause less distress, yet he couldn't seem to stop himself.His very well-kept secret was he'd wanted Stacy Halligan from the day she moved in next door to him. His first glimpse of her—trim figure clad in cutoffs hugging a very sweet ass, a ragged University of Michigan T-shirt, thick auburn hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, kissable lips in a face free of makeup that he sure didn't think it needed.Even then, she'd had attitude. The movers carried in the heavy pieces for her, but she seemed determined to haul the stuff from her car herself, refusing help when the movers offered. The day was hot and within an hour she'd sweated through that T-shirt, her nipples like sweet cherries nudging the soft fabric. And every time she bent over to get another armful from the trunk or the back seat, t

Stacy frowned at the disheveled pile of clothes on her bed. She had already chosen and discarded four different outfits. What did one wear to lunch, anyway, with a very sexy guy who pretended to be your guy to raise your hot babe quotient? All the outfits were somehow wrong: too fussy, too plain, too businesslike—What the hell? I am in business—or too casual.Why couldn't she simply pull some kind of ensemble together today without all the dithering?Because Max, the devil, had said, "Wear something sexy."Max. The man whose goodnight kiss had left her wanting to get naked with him and leap onto his cock. The thought startled her so she nearly dropped the clothes she held. Then another thought hit her.And wouldn't that just shock the hell out of him?Why on earth have erotic thoughts about Max, anyway? Good old Max. Doing her a favor.Staring at herself standing in her bra and thong before her mirror, she wondered what Max would think of her body. She pinched one of her nipples

"Think that made an impression?" he asked with a grin."More like a sinkhole," she told him now that she could catch her breath. "Wow!""The guy in your office who glared as if he wanted to shoot me. I take it he's resident asshole?"She nodded. "That's Kurt.""Forgive me for saying so, Stacy. That guy even looks like an asshole. I need to talk to you about your taste in men.""Not today, okay?" How to tell him she really wanted to pretend what they were enjoying was a fun, romantic luncheon and she didn't want to talk about Kurt or anyone else? He'd think her nuts. The whole plan was all pretend and she had to keep that in mind. Even though her brain was still fogged from that kiss."I can already tell he's a loser." He hugged her against him and gave her a playful grin. "I'm so much handsomer. And much nicer."Was he only teasing her? More of his usual Max-type jokes? For an insane moment, she wanted this to be real.While she wondered, he kissed her on the cheek. Just a gent

If only he didn't worry so much that his plan would backfire on him. As she headed for the restroom, he took out his cell and punched in a number."Are you crazy?" his friend Arnie asked. "I need more than five minutes to prepare for what you want.""Pretend I'm helping you prepare for the Valentine's Day thing you always do. Don't you need some practice?""No," Arnie snapped. "Not as long as we've been doing it.""Then it should be easy," Max told him. "I have faith, my man. Just ask Josie to help."Arnie laughed. "My wife will do it if only to get a peek at a woman who has you obviously outside your comfort zone.""Whatever. As long as you get it done. Okay?""Yeah, yeah, yeah.""Did you call your office?" he asked when they were back in his car."Yes. When I went to the ladies room." She gave an unsteady little laugh. "They think I'm crazy. I never take off in the middle of the day.""Then maybe it's time you did. If none of those idiots you hung out with talked you into i